I'm not America!
by A.H. Nox
Summary: Canada is always mistaken for America. Even when Cuba asked him to come over to mend their relationship. However, this time the misunderstanding is taken to a whole other level of hate and pain. France saves the mistaken nation, and Canada believes he can heal if France is there. But Happily Ever After isn't that easy. Warning: Yaoi, Franada, hinted couples, rape, bondage, sextoy
1. Kidnapped

**A/N:** (Since fanfiction has enforced the rating M rule, the full version of this story will be on my website. [imnotamerica . webs . com] Without the spaces)

**Warning: yaoi(boyxboy), rape, bondage, sextoys, cutting** (This is the only other warning you'll get...or maybe these warning makes people want to read more?)

**Disclaimer: **These character do NOT belong to moi.** Himaruya Hidekazu** is the rightful owner. If it was me, I'd abuse all of them...probably. This is the only disclaimer you'll get as well.

* * *

**Kidnapped**

"Hey, America! What the hell are you doing here?" Cuba yelled loudly inside the airport, yet no one took notice of him.

"But, I'm Canada." Canada exclaimed, starting to get worried about where this misunderstanding will take him this time around.

"Don't mess with me!" Cuba grabbed Canada and put a dampened cloth to his mouth and nose. Canada blacked out by the fumes of the chemicals soaked into the handkerchief.

Damn. America ruined my plans with Canada. Fucking bastard. Seeing as Canada's flight arrived but he's not here, I guess he ditched me. Cuba let out a sorrowful sigh. He had to admit that he expected something like this, seeing as though he bullied Canada couple days ago. _At least he sent America._ Cuba smiled mischievously. _Let's have some fun._

Canada stirred and tried to move. However, he was tied down. Tied down to a bed. Slowly, he looked around the room, most likely at Cuba's house. He struggled to move, but found his hands tied to the head of the bed. His legs, splayed across the bed, were tied firmly to the foot bedposts. Suspicion started to creep into him, and Canada struggled to escapes from his bonds.

"Finally awake, America?" Cuba's voice filled Canada's ears. However, since he couldn't raise his head, he couldn't find the place of origin.

"I'm not Ame-"

"Stop fucking with me." Cuba barked back causing Canada to jump in fear. Slowly, hallucinations started to fill Canada's head as fear swarmed his emotions.

"Cuba, I'm Can-"

"Shut the fuck up. I'll tell you something. We're going to play a little game. Something nice and sweet." Cuba crawled onto the bed. Canada saw that Cuba was shirtless and wearing his cargo pants. His tanned skin illuminated slightly in the small amount of lighting available. Cuba's dreadlocks were tied back, as they were the last time Canada saw them. As Cuba inched closer, Canada started to calculate his predicament.

"Cuba. Um. What are you doing?" Canada gulped, nervous. As the tanned man go closer, Canada tried to squirmed out of the man's reach. Cuba grabbed Canada roughly and straddled his hips. Without care, Canada's clothes were yanked off of him. Laying stark naked with only a blush on his cheeks, Cuba ran his fingers up and down the slim pale figure. Canada tensed under his fingers and quivered. Cuba then moved his face next to Canada's ear.

"I'm going to rape you, America."

Sweat started to form on Canada's brow as Cuba moved to his chest. Canada jerked away when he felt the warmth of Cuba's mouth on his nipple.

"Cu-cuba." Canada gasped as Cuba continued to fondle his nipples. Cuba grasped one of the pert bud with his lips and the other with his fingers, twisting and pulling. Canada felt an unintentional pleasure, and it took all his willpower to refrain from crying out. Canada pulled at his ropes and tried to twist out from underneath Cuba. He did not want this, not at all. However, Cuba continues to trail his tongue on Canada, tracing every curve. The captive quivered in reticent delight.

"I'm not...America." Canada breathed out before Cuba could go further. Cuba stopped and growled.

"Fuck that." He bit down on Canada's shoulder.

"Ah!" Canada felt a sharp pain and a tickling sensation of pleasure. His body started to gather heat. Cuba curious about his reaction, bit Canada's other shoulder as, if not more, hard. Canada let out another gasp of pleasure. "A masochist, are we?" Cuba smirked, running his nails down Canada's rib cage.

"Uh..." Canada cried, shaking his head frantically. Cuba raked Canada arms, leaving angry red lines.

"I beg to differ." Canada gasped at the sudden pain and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He couldn't differentiate the pain and the pleasure as fear controlled his mind. Canada felt something uncomfortable between his legs and nearly burst into tears when he saw he was hard.

"Now there'll be no mistake between pain and pleasure." Cuba swallowed Canada's cock whole.

"Ah! C-cuba! Ah, n...no stop! Haa...ha...ahh" Canada pulled at his ropes more as Cuba began to bob his head and skillfully maneuver his tongue against the hard organ. Cuba deep-throated the poor Canadian, humming to send vibrations down his length. The pleasure elevated when Cuba grabbed Canada's balls and tweaked his nipples again.

"Haa...nn...Cu...Cuba! Please! ah...s-stop..." Canada continued to speak in between heated gasps. Pleasure continued to mount and breathing became laborious. Cuba sensing Canada's climax, released the organ with a pop and slipped on a cock ring.

"AHHH! CUBA! It...it hurts!" Canada keened, writhing on the bed. "Oh god." A whisper escaped his lips as Canada moved to find friction for his cock. Finding nothing else, Canada resorted to rotating his hips on Cuba. Cuba enjoyed the feeling of a warm cock against his body and moved off the bed wanting to tease Canada some more.

"Uh...haaa...aaa...Cuba. Please. Let m...me go. Y-you...ugh...have the w-wrong person. Aaaah." Canada effortlessly pulled at the ropes again, finding a sharp pain emanating from his wrists.

"Excuses. I'll be back. Don't do anything stupid." Cuba strolled out of the room, leaving Canada alone. He became irate as he thought about the harassment he was receiving. This wouldn't have happened if America wasn't such as ass. This should be happening to him and not me. Fuck this! Canada lay silently on the bed as his chest clenched in fear. I'm going to be raped! Oh god. After this, what will he do with me. Big Brother France...please help me. Canada closed his eyes momentarily but shot open when he heard Cuba step into the room again.

"Let's get started." Cuba held a phone in hand. _France, please save me._

* * *

France was visiting England's house because he wanted to scheme with his British chap. Right as they were about to finalize their plans to spread rumors about Japan, the phone rang.

"Now who is it?" England got up and answered the phone. "Cuba? Wha...?" England listened for a couple seconds and turned bright red. Curious, France turned on the speaker phone.

"Ah...ah...ah...ah...mnn...ha. Cuba. Uh...nh." A lewd voice filled the empty room. France froze and tried to push down his imagination. England was frozen solid. "It...it hurts Cuba! Please, take it out! Ah...oh...oh god." A voice sobbed and whimpered.

"Good day, uh, England. Do you like, aah, the vocals? I'm s-sure you've heard it al...ready in bed before." Cuba continued to thrust into the poor beaten up body mercilessly. There was no room for Canada to adjust to Cuba's length.

"What they bloody hell are you talking about?" England couldn't help but blush._ How did Cuba know about his relationship with America? No, that's not important right now!_

"Cuba! What the hell are you doing to America?" England yelled into the receiver. The voice seemed a little quieter and less obnoxious, but considering the circumstances, it wasn't too strange.

"I'm eating him thoroughly, can't you tell? Haven't you ever taken him like this before?" Cuba thrusted deeply into Canada as pain shot through his entire body. "So I'm taking a virgin? It sure doesn't, ugh, feel like it." Cuba put the phone near Canada's ass so England could hear the wet sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Blood also oozed out, seeing Canada's only preparation was two quick fingers in the ass.

As England desperately yelled at Cuba to get his filthy hands off of America, France had a bad feeling. The voice was definitely exactly like America's, but there was a different twang in it.

"Canada?" France thought out loud. _No, it couldn't be. 'E would never go near enough to Cuba to be kidnapped, right?_

"Cuba, you bastard! I'm going to kill you, son of a bitch." England was about to hang up the phone when a loud voice came from the door.

"England, England, England! Dude, look at what I made for the next meeting! It's a world saving super hero automaton! Automaton means robot! Hahahahahaha!" America waltzed into the room, stuffing his face with more hamburgers. France and England froze instantaneously. How could this obnoxious piece of shit be at two places at once? Voice recording?

"America! How in the-? Are you okay? Where's Cuba? How are you here?" England embraced America and started to look over his lover's body.

"Hahahaha! What are you talking about, man? I've been in your kitchen the whole day? You're ridiculous!" America threw his back in laughter. Shit, it was Canada! Cuba's a dead man. France ran out of the room.

"Bu-but Cuba just called and it sounded as though he was...fucking you." England leaned his head into America's shoulder.

"Naw. It was probably him and Canada messing with you. Canada was supposed to visit him today." America patted England's shoulder. Then both men froze.

"Listen to my awesome hero voice guys! It's operation: Save...uh...what's his name!" America yelled with a burger in hand.

"Um. France has already left." A maid mentioned.

"What?"

* * *

Cuba decided to continue fucking the Canadian after he hung up the phone. He kept his pace and stroked Canada's length making him cry.

"Ho-how could you...unn...call E-England?" Canada's voice became a high whine. His cock was still wrapped in the cock ring. The pressure only increased and this organ was throbbing.

"Because you sounded sexy as hell." Cuba thrusted to the hilt and hit Canada's prostrate.

"AH!" Canada curled in on himself searching for release but deprived of it.

"Cuba. Please...let me come! I-it...aahh...hurts-s! ...mnn! C-cuba. I b-beg you." Canada finally slipped out of his bonds, but was too weak to push Cuba off. All that mattered to him was to release the load that was building up. Cuba, while rocking his hips against Canada, grabbed his dick and squeezed without restraint. Canada screamed, making his throat sore, and became blind with ecstasy.

"Fr-france!" Canada sobbed as the pressure got to be too much and passed out. As Canada contracted around Cuba's cock, Cuba found his climax and came inside, marking him. Cuba pulled out and kissed Canada's worn out body before leaving the room.

* * *

**A/N****:** I know. I'm evil. I decided to take another risk and if it gets deleted again...the name will not change!


	2. Ache

**A/N:** Sorry for the late post! Thanks so much for EVERYONE who favorite and alerted. Even more to **crazy purple ninja**, a couple of Anon/Guest, and **ShadowKissedYaoi **who left reviews. I also know that there were tons of other people who reviewed before. This story was deleted because of content...yeah. That's why the previous chapter might have seemed a little abrupt. If you want to read the full story, go to: [imnotamerica. webs. com]. Thanks and please enjoy!

* * *

**Ache**

When Canada awoke he found himself cleaned and dressed in a grey v-neck and dark jeans. The room was void of another body and his was freed from the bed. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, Canada jolted from the bed, only to be confronted with excruciating pain in his ass and lower back. Not to mention the soreness of his wrist and ankles.

Collapsed on the ground, Canada used the bed to help him back up. As his legs threaten to give out on him again, he threw himself at the door. _ I need to get out of here._ Canada blinked back his tears as he fell against the door. Now hurting from the impact, he slowly turned the door knob from the ground. He dragged himself out of the room full of misery and into the living room of the apartment it seemed. For a second he feared Cuba would be running at him yelling, but there was no one in the apartment.

Canada could see the layout of the whole place. The living room and dining room were combined with the kitchen to the right. Due to a window and an opening instead of a door, Canada could see right into the kitchen as well. There was no life form in this apartment. Canada swung his head to the door leading to his freedom. It was down the hall to his right, past the kitchen. He could easily get there if he used the wall as support.

Mustering all the strength he had left, Canada pulled himself off the ground and pushed himself against the wall. With each step, his ass throbbed which, in turn, made him want to throw up. He could still feel _it_. When he passed the kitchen, he could feel himself gaining more energy. _I'm so close!_

_Click._

Canada froze at the sound of the front door unlocking. Panic and fear rushed into his system. Instinctively, Canada stumbled into the kitchen, praying that Cuba would pass by without noticing him. _Who am I kidding? He's going to see me and...and get angry...and..._ Sobs started wreck Canada's body as he heard footsteps approach._  
_

"Canada!"

"F-France?" Canada shifted closer to the man standing at the doorway. France was sweating and his appearance was in a disarray. The single person who was probably more narcissistic than Narcissus was casual in appearance. _All for me..._ Canada thought before being wrapped in the French man's arms. Feeling the warmth of a harmless person caused Canada to feel safe after a night of apprehension. He clawed at the French man's back, frantic to reassure himself of the life form there to save him. After smelling the nostalgic scent of roses from his childhood, Canada broke into dry sobs. It was all over. He would be safe again.

France was here.

* * *

"How is he?"A British man inquired. _England?_ Canada could faintly hear voices from where he lay, half asleep.

"I don't know. 'e fainted while crying when I found 'im. Zat bastard Cuba 'as something else coming at 'im." This man was definitely France. Canada could practically see France quivering with anger. France wasn't like his friend Prussia. He didn't just run around fighting people. He was the country of love, for heaven's sake. However, France was still a country; he could fight.

"Don't worry. You're not the only one who feels like that. Fucking asshole. My brother. My little brother!"

"America! Shut up. He's still sleeping." England reprimanded the boy.

"Fine. But you can't stop me from beating that jackass into the another dimension. Right now, I'm Alfred F. Jones; Mattie's brother!" Canada could hear America storming into another room of the house. If he listened carefully, he could also hear the sigh of England and the small feet following the American.

Canada tried to pull himself out of sleep, but it was difficult. His body refused to listen to him.

Everything felt heavy. Even the beating organ in his chest.

The door opened.

"God. _Matthieu_." France breathed out as soon as the door closed quietly behind him. Footsteps approached the bed and it creaked when France climbed next to Canada. "Matthieu." Canada froze. How long had it been since France...Francis had called him that?

It was hard. They were all representative of their countries. Their personal feelings had to come second to their jobs. Their human names were rarely used because relations tended to stay strictly professional. But when you spends days on end with the other country representative in the same cities and hotels, you become close. You make personal friends. In some cases, like the Italians, the bond was closer; that of a family. However, wars fought between countries and alliances that were formed forced them to ignore their previous friendships. Days when you called them by their human names were lost in the chaos of war.

It was rough with Francis. Not only because he used to be a French colony, but because the French man had abandoned him to England.

And because Canada loved the man who was like a father, a big brother.

"Matthieu. I'm so sorry, amour. I'm so sorry. You'll be able to pull through. You're a strong boy. I 'ave always believed zat. Even when I couldn't care for you, I believed you could succeed. Please be okay. You'll be fine. We'll be fine. Right? Oh, _dieu_." Canada could feel himself being pulled onto the French man's lap and being hugged. Once again, roses filled him sense of smell, and he was hit with the past.

Hiding in the garden of roses Francis had cultivated. Fighting with Alfred. Laughing with Alfred. Picnics in the wide open fields. Then the war between France and England.

It was horrifying for Canada. Watching the man he loved with his whole little being going off to fight, coming back with many wounds. There were victories, and there were losses. One day, France never came back. Instead, England was there. America came with him to reassure the young boy. The gentleman didn't want the young nation to be scared. England explained what had happened with the help of America soothing Canada.

Even with his brother's support, he went into shock for days. England had custody over him. Canada barely ate and never went outside. He became a reclusive for a while. Only Alfred was welcomed in his room, as long as he didn't try to talk him into doing things.

Sooner or later, Canada finally realized he was more pathetic than the man who had left him. He made a fast recovery. He regained him strength but he remained quiet. After shutting himself off to society, he wasn't comfortable in the presence of others.

And now here he was. Broken. Used. Tired.

And here Francis was. Torn. Desperate. Devastated.

And it was because of him.

If it was Francis, maybe he could heal. Maybe he could survive this without having to hate himself. Without asking himself what he did wrong, like he did when France left.

Slowly the heaviness lifted and Matthew could move his fingers. His eyes peered open and came into contact with Francis. Slowly moving his hand, Matthew reached out and touched the arm that was wrapped around him.

"F-francis?" His voiced croaked awfully. He winced at the terrible sound. The man jerked away, surprised, dropping Matthew's body onto the bed.

"Ow." Pain shot through Matthew's body. Once again, he was reminded of the act he was forced to commit.

His heart hurt. It ached.

"Matthieu! You're awake!" France collected the body into his arms. Matthew could feel the tears from the man. Bringing strength to his arms, Matthew moved his arms to wrap around the man's body. The pain ebbed away. He felt safe, accepted. He felt at home.

This warmth was comforting. It could mend him. Matthew was so sure. It was nothing like the fear inflicted by the Cuban's hands. Matthew shuddered. His body started to shake in memory. Remembering how his body reacted. Remembering the pain and the unintentional pleasure. The torture and humiliation.

"Francis!" Mattie couldn't stop shaking; he was sobbing again. His grip grew tighter. Matthew pressed his body tightly against France, trying to melt into the man and erase his sorrows. "He...he thought...god. He thought I-I was...Ameri..."

"Arrêter (stop), Matthieu. Please don't force yourself." Francis's voice cracked. He wouldn't be able to remain calm in his precious son and little brother's presence if he kept going.

"Francis...he was mis-staken. I...I tried...to t-t-ell him. Bu-but! Francis! Why couldn't h-he believe m-me? W-why...He wouldn't s-stop. Oh god. He...no. He...k-kept going...going...going." Matthew was half crazed. The memories kept flooding him. It kept overwhelming him. Matthew became scared. He thought he could overcome it with Francis there.

"Help me Francis. I-I don't know...what I s-should do." Canada leaned into Francis' shoulder. Francis, at a loss, held the boy tighter and ran his fingers through the fear filled Canadian's hair.

"Matthieu, mon amour. Just look at yourself. You're already doing great. You looking for 'elp instead of ignoring it, and look at where you are: in my arms. It's great zat you are able to touch another person. Most people would be terrified of another's touch by now. So you've already done enough for today. We'll take it a step at a time. I'll be with you Matthieu. Please believe me when I say je t'aime." Francis spoke so smoothly and eloquently into Mattie's head that he, himself, didn't realized he confessed until afterwards the deed was done.

"W-wha...? You love..._me_? Really?" Matthieu knew his desperation seeped through his voice. He clawed at the man's shirt. _Please don't lie to me. I don't know if I could take it.__  
_

Francis paused. _Is it safe for me to tell ze truth? Can I be sincere and pour out my love? 'e did just...no. It's obvious 'e wants to be loved. Maybe not necessarily from me, but if it's all I can do; I'll do it. Zen I'll let 'im go when 'e's 'ealed and ready to stand by 'imself again._

"Yes. Je t'aime, mon cher. You don't know 'ow much I love you. So please, focus on me now. I'll give you so much love you'll drown. So please, love me." Francis kissed Matthew's cheek tenderly. Matthew blushed ragingly. He didn't know how to react. _Francis loves me. Me! Even after everything...He loves me. Loves. Love. Amour._

"Ye-ahhn!" Matthew doubled over. _What is that? Nnn. Ahh...ahh...haa. Oh god, not...not again. Uugh._

"Matthieu? What's going on?" Francis touch the boy's back, sending electrifying pulses straight to the younger man's groin. Matthew could feel an insistent pulse in his ass. Matthew tried to stay calm, but his body refused and kept twitching. His hips even started to undulate against the bed slightly. _Damn Cuba! Uhhg...keeps screwing with me! haaahaa._

"Francis...please help me." Matthew's vision got a bit hazy. He started to claw at Francis' clothes again and his hips started moving more largely. It became very obvious to the opposing country. Mattie was aroused. But why?

"Get...get i-it out!" Matthew whined as his body quivered. The vibrations got stronger and the toy moved slightly to rub against Matthew's prostrate gland. Eyes shot open as the body was thrusted off the bed. Matthew writhed on the sheets, panting hard and wantonly.

"Francis...oh god...Francis~" Matthew grabbed the French man's hands and kissed his over and over again.

"Matthieu, what is wrong?" Francis asserted, trying to ignore the Canadian's abrupt ministrations. Matthieu was feeling something; Francis was determined on what it was.

"Vi-vibrator. Take i-it out..." Matthew proceeded in taking Francis' digits in his mouth. Playing with them with his tongue, he sucked hard. Francis winced as the feeling shot to his manhood. Before he knew it, Matthew had removed his pants, displaying his arousal to the French man. _Dear god. So hot..._ Francis' mouth became dry and his vision blurry from lust. Before he could move to touch his precious partner, Matthew made the first move. Through the material of the pants, Matthew sucked lightly on Francis' bulge.

"Uhhn." Francis couldn't help but grunt. It was too hot for him. "Matthieu..." Francis held both sides of the boy's face and kissed it deeply. The younger nation threw his arms around the other and moaned. Their tongues danced as Francis fell on top of Matthew.

"Francis." The French man's pants fell; the Canadian's shirt flew.

"Oh god, Francis." A nipple was squeezed and loved.

Canada gasped and started moving his ass so it faced Francis. His body continued to quiver as the vibrator buzzed against Matthew's prostrate. Small moans were persistent and increasing as Matthew rubbed himself against Francis' leg. He was getting impaitent. _Francis said he loved me. Why is he taking so long? Is he trying to tease me? Ugh...please. Just take out the vibrator...hurry. _Matthew used his hands to spread out his butt cheeks.

"...take i-it ou-out...nnh..." Tears started to roll. How much more could go wrong? Cuba had done _that_ to Matthew and put a vibrator inside of him, turning it on at the worst time possible. Now he was forcing the man he loved to see the worst in him.

"Don't worry. I'll 'elp you Mattheiu. Please, don't cry." Francis reached over and wiped away the tears before proceeding to Matthew's rear. Francis, remembering he had Vaseline in the night stand, reached over and slathered his finger and entrance with it. A finger slid in easily; a gasp and moan followed the second digit. The older nation could feel the vibrations inside the boy. Reaching deeper, he could feel the small object. Trying to lightly scoop it out, he grazed Matthew's prostrate. The smaller boy jumped and writhed on the bed causing Francis' digits to pop out of the nation's ass.

"Matthieu, amour, you must stay still." Francis inserted his fingers once more but failed due to the younger nation's movements.

"Matthieu!" Francis pinned the boy down with his knee on the lower back and left hand on the upper back. After securing Mattie, Francis made quick work. He thrusted his fingers accurately into the boy's ass and gently scooped out the devil device.

"uhhh...haa...nnh" Matthew moved pathetically against the bed, trying to release himself of his painful problem. Francis had yet to get off of him, too busy thinking about what to do with the small device in his hand. Missing the feeling of being filled and remembering Francis' love confession, Matthew only grew restless.

"Francis...heavy...ngh..." Francis gasped. He jumped off of his amour.

"Forgive me." He rained kisses on his suffering love. He kissed down the back of his love before flipping his around. Spying the Canadian's handsome arousal, Francis kneaded it softly, extracting delightful moans. Francis kissed the boy's lips, drifting to his jaws. He climbed down his neck and lingered at his collarbone, sucking sweetly and enticingly. Francis didn't stop with the attention given to the poor boy's length.

The French man lowered himself to the younger man's abdomen and sucked lightly down to his hip. Matthew gasped and bucked when Francis decided to nibble on the protruding hip bone.

"Patience, amour." Francis breathed on the pulsing member, which twitched when Francis kissed it. Mattie whined and twisted on the bed. How much longer did he have to wait. Apparently, it wasn't long. In one go, Francis swallowed Matthew's entire length. The hot mouth tightening around his aching member made Matthew scream the man's name.

"Please...oh god...Francis...Francis...Francis...haa...ahn..ghn...c-can't...n-no...I'm...I'm c-coming!" Another scream was ripped from the smaller nation's body as his essence shot into Francis' mouth. Swallowing the bitter sweet substance, Francis climbed back up to look Matthew in the eye.

"I can't believe you...swallowed." He turned away, face in hand, and red beyond measure. Chuckling lazily, Francis kissed the backside of the embarrassed boy's hands before peeling them off of his face. "Francis, I-" However, Francis cut him off short with a deep kiss. Shy and timid, Matthew tensed and needed to be coaxed out of his shell. Francis did a very good job at that.

He licked the other's lips and rubbed against his teeth; a groan followed. Knowing Francis wanted entrance, Matthew hesitantly let Francis in. The attack had begun. Tongues danced erratically as Francis pressed his body into Matthew, craving his touch all the more. Francis, still without a single release, rotated his hips against the bottom nation. Members rubbed together as their owners became increasingly bothered, breathing increased and eyes became clouded with lust.

Without a doubt, the kiss was making Matthew hot. This was something he had never experienced before. So when Francis closed his teeth around the muscle in Matthew's mouth, he jolted. The slight stinging pain shot to his nether regions, creating a sweet moan.

"A masochist, are we no?" Francis teasingly echoed the words of Cuba. Matthew froze in shear fear. That's right.

He wasn't a virgin anymore. He was tainted.

He was ruined. He was used.

He was a whore. He was unworthy.

"Matthieu...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, stop crying." Matthew touched his wet face confused. "I love you; please don't cry." Francis leaned to give the shaking Matthew a reassuring kiss when he realized something. _Matthieu hasn't told me how he feels. He could be going with the flow or unable to tell me to stop. For all I know, I'm raping him._ All things ceased from there. All the heat that had gathered in Francis' lower regions were gone. Just like that.

"Oh _god_. Matthieu, I didn't-I'm sorry. I'll leave. Please, don't 'ate me. I'll get your brother to come in 'ere or something later. I'm so sorry." Francis moved to wipe away his tears before leaving, but Matthew couldn't help but flinch away. He didn't want the one he loved to touch a person like him: tainted, so useless. Unable to give a presence, unable to defend himself, and unable to give love to the one most important to him.

Dejected, Francis got up from the bed and pulled his pants back on. He readjusted his shirt and saw how the Canadian was frozen. Heart breaking, he tossed Canada's hair a bit before taking off.

"I would stay and 'elp you clean up, but I zink I've done enough damage for today. I'm sorry again, Canada."

_Canada? No. NO! I don't want to go back to being countries. I still haven't...I still haven't told him. Francis. Please don't go..._

"Don't go!" Matthew threw himself at Francis who was half way to the door. "Please, don't leave me. I don't want...I-I...I love you." His grip tightened, scared. _Would this keep him from leaving? Keep him from severing the human connection they have? Keep him from just seeing me as just another country, "America's brother", or what's-his-name?_

"Stop it, please. Canada, you aren't feeling well. Please, go lay back down. I'll call America or Britain to come check up on you later. I 'ave to leave now. Please Canada. Just go lay back down." France's voice was definitely strained. He could barely keep himself from crying. Oh, how much he wanted to embrace his little country. But when he was in such a vulnerable state, he couldn't. Canada wasn't thinking correctly when he said he loved him, the country of love. The man who couldn't even support the boy when he was younger. Francis couldn't be persuaded into staying and making love to the country who might regret it, who might feel as though he was raped twice. As much as he loved the boy, he couldn't do that to him; it was the exact same as taking advantage of a drunk man. No, he would show the younger man his love when the boy could decide for himself whether he liked it or not.

France slowly moved away from the boy and left the room with a quiet click. He leaned against the door with a sigh, tears forming. _Canad-no. Matthieu..._

* * *

_Why? I thought...I thought he said he loved me. I was his amour. But w-why?! _Canada was slumped on the ground where France had slipped away from his grasp. _I love him so much. Why-why would he treat it like nothing? He said-he said...but what if...if he didn't mean it? Was I being too obvious back then, too desperate? Is that why he...lied? Just to please me? Then all those kisses and acts of love. To give me a sense of comfort?_

Canada touched his slightly bruising neck, where he knew hickeys would appear. A strangled cry ripped from his throat. He had caused the man he loved to touch his filthy body. To caress it like he loved it. To suck on him like he wanted to. _Oh god...France had given him a blowjob without wanting to. And that kiss...that sweet kiss was a lie. He even said he would help me through..._

Canada felt sick.

He panicked. He didn't know where the bathroom was. It didn't matter anyways. It was coming too fast for him to run to any bathroom, no matter how close. Whatever was in his stomach emptied itself on the ground. Luckily, it was a wooden floor instead of carpet, which would've been hell to clean. As Canada was dry heaving, Britain walked in. Surprised at Canada's naked appearance and ill state, he shut the door behind him quickly. Wrapping his shoulders with a towel, Britain slowly brought Canada to his feet and took him to the bathroom in the bedroom.

It was a simple bathroom with a sink with a cabinet underneath and mirror on top. A toilet to the right of it and a shower to the farthest right. Britain sat Canada on the closed toilet lid and turned on the water at a comfortable temperature. Before sending him inside, Britain looked Canada in the eye.

"What did that frog do?" A hint of rage could be detected in the British man's green eyes. Canada smiled. _At least this man genuinely cares..._

"Nothing...Hahaha. It was all _me_." A tear. "It was all _my_ imagination." Even as Canada said it, it ached.

* * *

**A/N:**holy crap...I didn't expect it to be THIS long. And i didn't expect for me to update so lately. I'm sorry! The next chapter will be up MUCH sooner. Definitely within a month...two weeks if possible. It's really angsty I think? It's my first angst. The love sorta scene is a little weird because I was very indecisive of how I should approach it...I decided this will not be merely a one or twoshot. It'll go for as long as it takes for Francis and Mattie to hook up.

Oh...and i know the human names was kinda abrupt. Half way through writing this I actually got more comfortable with their human names...so i thought of some sort of excuse... RxR please! Thinking about doing a UKUS extra...vote on my profile~ REVIEW please! I know you're out there and FF made it so easy now!


	3. Tears

**A/N:** Hey there beautifuls! Thanks a whole bunch for y'all who took the time to read this. Special thanks to** EclipsedDevil13 **and** Miin** for reviewing! Love ya guys! This story will get angsty...but it'll be ending on a sweet note either in this chapter or the next...if i decided to extend it to another chapter. Now just read and review to tell me what ya think!

* * *

**Tears**

"Stop. What the hell are you doing?" Canada gasped.

"What I want to do." America smirked.

"No. You're lying. You don't want to do this. Stop forcing yourself and dragging me down too." Canada tried to pull away.

"Stop struggling! It'll be MUCH easier if you just went with it! I'm trying to be the hero here."

"I don't need a hero, America. I'm fine by myself."

"Now who's the one lying? You need comfort, and I'll be the one administering it to you." America slung the Canadian over his shoulder. Shocked, Canada forgot to struggle against his neighboring country. America took him into a darkened room and flipped him onto the large couch.

"Stop it, America. You're going to regret it!"

"No I won't. Now sit still, and I'll get started..."

* * *

A blood-curling scream was heard throughout the Britain's house. Canada had taken refuge here after the whole incident, and America was having consecutive sleepovers. England stopped preparing for dinner and ran to find the source of the scream. He couldn't yet tell who it was. _God damn their identical voices. It's not a problem when they're speaking but when they scream._ England muttered as he made his way down to the dark basement. He could distinctly hear a person crying and muffled yelps every now and then. Rage filled the small man's body. _If that bastard America is messing with Canada, I'm going to whip his ass!_ He walked over to the double doors and took a deep breath before slamming the doors open.

The light from outside of the room poured in to show a quivering Canadian on the same couch he was thrown on. America was nowhere in sight. Before England could take a step into the room, another scream ripped from inside causing England to fling himself to the wall. He flipped on the lights and stood appalled at the sight. Canada was curled up on the couch whimpering while America was nowhere to be seen. A slasher, zombie, horror movie was playing on the large screen with surround sound. England ran to find the remote and turn off the damn movie. Once it was stopped, America jumped out from the top of the DVD closet in the back of the room.

"Brit dude! That was totally not cool! It was just getting to the good part!" America wrestled with the older nation for the remote.

"You weren't even watching the darn thing! Just look what you did to Canada!" England gave America one great shove. America toppled over the couch causing Canada to jerk in fear. He couldn't believe America had made him watch something like that. And it was actually supposed to help him relax. What a load of bull...

"I swear. Alfred, just leave. Go to your room or outside. Just go and reflect on how stupid you were this time." England gathered the Canadian from off the couch. Rubbing small circles into his back, Canada was led out of the horrible room by the British gentlemen.

"You have no authority over me, Arthur. Remember? I'm free from you!" England ceased all movements. Canada pulled out from his horror movie shock and saw the pain twisting Arthur's face. "Oh god. Arthur, I didn't mean that. I'm so sorry!" Alfred jumped to the British chap's side as he broke out into tears.

"You wanker. Leave me alone. Just...please..." Arthur and Alfred were both kneeling on the ground clinging to each other. Even Matthew understood the ice thin situation.

Arthur took America's Revolution personally, more personally than he should have. However, there wasn't much of a way to avoid it. Arthur had practically raised Alfred from birth, going through the joys and pains of being somewhat of a father. It would've been better if it was a simple rebellion that could be written off as a teenager "stage", but it was more extreme. Alfred was physically fighting the man who had watched over him his whole life. To Arthur it seemed as though the younger nation didn't want a thing to do with him, as though he was the one being abandoned. It broke his heart.

He had seen this young boy take his first steps. His first words. His first boo boo. His first bicycle. His first baby tooth. His first Christmas, birthday, New Years and Halloween. He went through nightmares, bed wetting, and diaper changes. Arthur helped him through relationships and hardships. Of course they had their disagreements, but they had always tried to fix it. However, this fight wasn't one who could just get over. Either way, the war was going to cause a rift in their relationship.

Even worse, Arthur couldn't refuse. His countrymen wanted to fight back. America had no thoughts of giving in; this was something he had to accomplish. He didn't want to be under England's rule anymore; he wanted to be a free. He wanted to be equal. Though Arthur didn't know this until they reconciled and got together. Alfred knew what he was doing to his beloved British gentleman, but he couldn't afford to be always seen as the son or little brother. And this was all explained before the hook up. So, even though Arthur knew Alfred's reasoning, it still hurt him to think of such a time when the person he loved more than anything fought against him.

"Arthur...come on. Look at me. I'm here, aren't I?" Alfred gave Arthur a chaste kiss. Matthew flinched. Before anything else could happen, he slipped upstairs. Neither country noticed his absence, again. In this case, he was glad he becomes invisible to others. As he closed the door, a stifled moan traveled to Canada's ears and his heart clenched painfully. He slowly walked away from the door and made his way into the living room. He sat in a corner next to the television. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights. Another gasp reached his ears. He clutched his arms.

He tried to focus on something else. Anything else. He tried to remember the last show he watched on the T.V., but that reminded him of the horror movie. Smelling food from the kitchen, he thought of the last meal he had, but that was worse than the movie. He hadn't eaten anything since two days ago. He was never hungry. It was because of...

Canada winced in pain. He didn't realize he had pulled up his long sleeve sweater and started scratching himself again. Through the darkness in the room, he saw the blood on his nails and the angry marks on his forearms. His hand trembled as he brought them back to his arm. Once more he dug his nails in to his skin and pulled. Pretending to have an annoying bug bite on his arm, Canada relentlessly marred his arm until tears fell out of frustration.

_Why? Why did his brother get everything? Power, freedom, recognition, love? Uhn...why is he so successful?_ Canada paused. _And w-why is he so hated?_ Canada remembered Cuba. He pulled up his other sleeve, digging into the pale skin. _Why can't I be outspoken like him? Or even just have my own presence so others can recognize me? Everything was alright until this all happened. I was fine admiring _him_ from afar. I was fine with _him_ never finding out about me. __ I was fine with just being a past colony. Everything is ruined now. Everything..._

* * *

France was finishing the meal the British man had started. Actually, when France had walked into the British man's house, there was a strange smell comgin from the kitchen. He practically fainted of laughter when he realized it was the dinner England was trying to cook. After a whole bunch of adjustments and new ingredients, it turned into a marvelous French dinner. He vaguely wondered what England was doing, but he dismissed his curiosity when he heard the man's moan along with America's.

He laughed a little. _Of course. 'ow could I 'ave been so stupid? Onhonhon._

Then he heard a different sound. A shuffling of feet. France whipped his head towards the door.

Canada.

"H-hey zere buddy." '_ad 'e 'eard England and America yet?_ Panic arose in the French man. Was the small Canadian okay with sex at the moment? The last time France had seen the boy... 'ad 'e gone to a prostitution 'ouse to get ze love 'e craved? Or 'ad England and America kept 'im locked up inside ze 'ouse? Did z_ey_ give 'im ze loving 'e wanted? France refused to think about it anymore.

"Good evening." The boy muttered before running away. Questions bombarded the frightened Canadian. _Why was he here? Did England invite him? Did America? Why do they hate me?_ The only other thought was to run away to his room. He'd come back out when the older nation leaves. He made his way to the stairs when an arm gripped him.

He stumbled and fell down in fright. He looked to see it France towering over him. _What did he want?_

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to scare you. Can you get up?" France extended a hand. Canada took it cautiously. Canada winced as France's pull exerted the wounds on his arm. As soon as he got to his feet, Canada jerked his hand from France's. With a pained eyes, France smiled.

"Let's go eat. I made everyone dinner." France led the Canadian back into the kitchen where he helped set the table. Unspoken, they ignored America and England's portion of dinner and only set their own. Sitting across from each other, they began to eat. Not a word was spoken which was fine with the Canadian. However, for the older nation, it was unsettling to have the room so quiet. He racked him brain to think of something to talk about. Anything other than the weather. His eyes roamed the room trying to start a conversation of something in the room. His eyes landed on something he didn't expect.

Blood.

"Mon cher! You're bleeding!" France's chair clattered as he shot up and grabbed Canada's arms from across the table. Startled by the sudden contact and France's discovery, Canada fought back and tried to wrench his arms away from the older man.

"France! Stop it! Please stop. France! Uhn...please." Canada tried to twist away from the strong grip. Tears fell shamelessly. _Why did he have to find out? Why?_ "LET GO! Let me go! France, just please let me go!" Canada finally pulled his arms away, the momentum throwing him to the ground. He cradled his arms, the bandaging he had done were pulled apart; blood now stained his pale cream sweater. He heard France running over to where he sat.

Blue eyes met violet.

Worried filled eyes met with tear filled eyes.

"N-no...get away. France. Please. GET AWAY!" Canada screamed backing up from France, who had crouched down in front him. More running footsteps.

"FROG! WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME!?" England exploded into the dining room; America was close behind. They were both dressed, surprisingly. Alfred jumped straight to his brother. He saw the blood. He understood.

Sad blue eyes once again met violet.

"Arthur..." Alfred's eyes never left his brother's. Arthur let go of France's collar, shocked to hear his human name. Something was wrong. "You need to come here, now. I don't think the problem lies with France." Canada looked down. He hated all the attention. He was being made into a spectacle; he couldn't hide anymore. They were going to make him face this, with France there. Why couldn't he disappear now as well?

"Alfred, what is it...bloody hell. Matthew." Arthur breathed out, pulled up the sleeves of the Canadian's sweater; Matthew couldn't help but wince. He hated it when Arthur put on his father hat. It hurt him so much to disappoint the older nation, especially with all he had done for him.

"Y-yes?" Matthew tried to stay calm. Alfred was hugging his brother from behind lightly, trying to comfort and keep him from running away. England was crouched in front of him, holding his scarred arms. Francis was standing behind the British man, sorrow swimming throughout the whole body.

"Tell me, luv. Why would you-no..." Arthur didn't know what to ask. They all knew why. Why else would someone self inflict pain? The question of when was easy too. Very recent. How couldn't even be considered a question. It didn't have the thin lines of a razor and nail marks aren't easily mistaken. "Did you think we wouldn't notice?" Arthur sighed. What was he supposed to do with this kid?

"Yes." The answer came short and sweet. It was filled with such confidence that the other three gasped. Matthew refused to look at any of them. If he continued to where long sleeves, like he usually does, no one would have noticed. Plus, there was no one to notice him anyways. Alfred and Arthur were too busy with each other, as they should be. It wasn't long ago they got together either. He didn't expect France to be here either, but again, the sleeves would've hidden the injuries.

Matthew felt his face jerking to the side. Vaguely, he felt his cheek started to sting. It finally registered that he was slapped by Arthur. Francis pulled Arthur away before he could slap and harm the poor boy again. Alfred shielded Matthew by pulling him into a tighter hug and shifting their bodies so Alfred sat in between the older nations and Mattie.

"HOW! HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT? DO YOU REALLY WE'RE STUPID OR IGNORANT ENOUGH TO NOT NOTICE?" Arthur was struggling to get to the crying boy; Francis was struggling to keep him away. "HOW COULD YOU THINK SO LOWLY OF US? US?!" Arthur's voice rose another octave before he calmed down. "Us...Your family." Arthur collapsed to the ground. Alfred shifted towards his lover but couldn't bear leave Matthew. Francis rubbed the smaller man's back as sobs wretched his whole body. Matthew wept harder; it was the second time in the day Arthur cried, both times because of that word: _family_.

"I...I'm-"

"Don't apologize." Francis finally spoke, stopping Matthew's tears. "It's partly our fault as well; making you feel invisible, especially after what you went through. Zat is no family." Matthew's tears started to fall again. Arthur slowly removed himself from Francis and crawled past Alfred to his other family member. Arthur took a bloodied arm and kissed the wrist gingerly before embracing the weeping Canadian. Alfred, tearing up, quickly tried to be the hero and gave both men platonic kisses on the cheek. He put his arms around the both of them, patting them on the back.

_My family. I have a family who actually care. They won't forget me. They'll remember who I am. I can heal. _ Matthew couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Arthur, realizing Mattie was feeling better, smiled as well, nuzzling the younger nation. Matthew looked to the men holding him tightly; _my family._ He, then, looked at the French man standing; _my family_.

No. Not him.

No. Not him.

NO! NOT HIM!

"NO! NOT HIM!"

"Matthieu! What 'appened? Not who? 'im?" Francis fell to his knees in front of the boy, making him shoot back. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be Francis' family. He wanted his love; nothing less. He couldn't be stuck with this family label. Not yet he couldn't. But how? How? How could you break away and be free... Freedom!

Matthew looked to Alfred, who was as scared and confused as the other two men. _Alfred had done it. But...can I? Will I be strong enough? Brave enough? Is it possible?_ Mattie clung to the American, crying yet again.

"No. I don't want that from you. Not you." Matthew breathed out against Alfred's chest; his voice rattled, but Francis heard it. He heard it as though it had been spoken directly in his ear. But that didn't mean he could accept it. His love didn't want to even be in a family with him. Above the Canadian's weeping head, the three men exchanged confused and appalled looks. How could their sweet Mattie say something like that? Francis, unable to stand the atmosphere, left quickly. Alfred jerked his head towards the door, urging Arthur to chase after him. After a quick peck on the forehead, Arthur left just as quickly.

Alfred coaxed the boy up, trying to get him to the bedroom to get his wounds cleaned. On his way out he noticed the dinner table for the first time. He took a sharp intake of breath; Matthew had eaten. Alfred and Arthur had tried everything to get the Canadian to eat. They've even set multiple different ethnic dishes, trying to find what he would crave, even French food. Nothing worked. _Oh god. It's because Francis cooked it._ Alfred reached his epiphany once he sat his brother down on the bed.

_He loved him. Matthew loved Francis that much. _

"Alfie?" Matthew's voice was barely audible, even to the American crouched in front of him washing his wounds.

"Hmm?"

"I want to be free." Alfred paused, heart thumping in his chest. _Free? Free from what? Us? _"How did you do it with England? How did you break free from England?" Matthew became more animated.

"You..."

Alfred pulled his brother into a bear hug.

"You love him that much."

Matthew gripped his brother.

"To the point of tears."

* * *

"Francis!" Arthur ran after his fellow country representative. "Would you just stop, you frog!"

"Leave me alone, eyebrows. You 'eard 'im. 'E does not want anything to do with me." Francis yelled over his shoulder. England, enraged, sprinted towards the French man and tackled him.

"Listen to m-"

"Non! You listen to me! Do you remember ze time when America fought against you? I don't doubt you 'ave forgotten. Do you remember 'ow 'eart broken you were? Because you thought 'e 'ated you. But it turned out fine for you, didn't it? You are as 'appy as can be, non? 'Owever, in my case, mon amour 'as rejected my advanced to romance 'im and now, 'e doesn't even want me as apart of 'is family. Do you understand where I am? This love of mine is a 'opeless case." Francis was panting by the end of his rant. Arthur was in shock.

"You..."

Arthur pulled Francis into a light hug.

"You love him that much."

Francis nodded sadly.

"To the point of tears, mon Angleterre."

* * *

**A/N: **It ended up being sweet in this chapter. But don't think the angst has stopped. It was so hard to write this up. I didn't know where is was going. Sorry for the lack of description for England's house. It's supposed to be a mansion type of house so I can't really think of a layout for that. I'm poor so I'm never lived in a mansion... For y'all who don't know, there's poll going on my profile for a UKUS extra at the end of this story. So be looking for that. Also I made a model of Cuba's apartment and the link is also on my profile.

If anyone wants to write a summary for this story, I'll be glad to accept it. Mine is terrible. Just PM me! I know y'all are there so please review while you are at it. It's really convenient as well! Thanks! KISSES!


	4. Amoureux

**A/N:**Thanks a whole bunches to y'all who keep reading this. It was so hard to make a way for Canada and France to be in each other's company. But here it is! This will be the penultimate chapter! Unless, I drag it on, which will be unlikely. I've already dragged it on since it was supposed to be a one/two shot. I don't know about a UKUS extra though. Only one person has voted. PLEASE VOTE!

The beginning might be a bit confusing with the italics but you'll get it.

Thanks again to **Hecomethinpeace**! I'm glad that you like it! Let's begin! oh! If anyone wants to write a summary for this story, I'll be willing to accept it!

P.S. Amoureux means "in love"... *wink wink*

* * *

**"Amoureux"**

"A-America! Be s-serious. Uhn... stop fooling arou-ah!" England winced as America nipped his earlobe.

"Arthur. Come on, now. I am serious. I seriously want to fuck you, so drop the formalities." Alfred jerked Arthur's shirt down, revealing cherry planted smooth skin. Arthur's face flushed red in an instant. He struggled to pull his shirt back on, but to no avail.

"We need to l-leave! T-they're waiting f-for us downstairs!" England hissed and smacked the boy square on the head. Sticking out his tongue, America released the old British gentlemen. After fixing his shirt, England strode out of the bedroom before America did anything else.

France was in his usually flashy attire. Neither England nor America looked at it long enough, nor did they want to, to see exactly what he was wearing. England made his way towards the front door; France closely behind. England opened the door for the french man, and they exited the house. England took a glance back at America before smiling.

"We'll be waiting in the car." England left the door open for America and the other one. Yes, Canada was there. The other North American country was pressed against the wall, trying to hide and hoping the other country men would forget about him. He was nervous about going. The four of them were to spend the night together, eating dinner and then going to a bar.

_France opened the passenger seat of his Mercedes Benz convertible; England stepped in. France went around to the other side of the car and started it. Due to the setting of the sun, both countries decided it was better to close the roof of the car._

"Canada. Let's go. You heard England. They're waiting for us in the car." America tugged on the Canadian's arm. He didn't budge. "Canada, come on." Still, nothing. "What's wrong?"

_England was scrolling through his Galaxy to double check on their dinner reservation. He didn't notice for a couple of minutes the quiet state of his fellow European country. When he did, however, England shifted in his seat so his whole body faced the other._

_"What's wrong now?"_

"Alfred...I'm scared." Mattie gripped his brother's sleeve. Alfred's heart swelled with affection. He gave his brother a bear hug.

_"Mon Angleterre...zis is a scary time for me. 'Ow am I supposed to calmly eat with 'im?" Francis ran his fingers through his hair and gripped it._

"Hahaha! It'll be all okay. Remember what I told you. All you need to do is clear up this misunderstanding. Enough time has passed so Francis can't say it's all on a whim, right?" Alfred patted Matthew on the back and dragged him out the door.

_"Don't be an idiot. Alfred and I will be there as well. All you have to do is clear up this misunderstanding. You've given Mattie enough time. Here they come." England watched as Mattie trailed Alfred closely, gripping the back of his shirt._

"Just sincerely tell him you love him." Alfred whispered, making Mattie red.  
_"Just tell him you love him." Arthur whispered, making Francis smile confidently._

* * *

Dinner was better than either party could hope for. Mattie was actually eating again, for one. Alfred knew it was due to the presence of the french man. With this, he became more confident in his brother's feeling for the older nation. Throughout the whole meal, he couldn't help but sneak a proud smile in when no one was looking. Conversation was not lacking, which gave hope for all. Soon, they were headed to a frequent pub all of them visited. They sat in an open booth across the room from the bar.

Knowing he had to drive back, France ordered a simple cocktail with an appropriate amount of alcohol. America went for the bourbon while England took a martini. After contemplating for a while, Canada finally stuck with a familiar rye whiskey. After a couple of sips, all the members of the party became more comfortable with each other. The Europeans let down their airs, and practically opened up their hearts to the Westerners. They reminisced about the good ol' days when Canada and America were young and innocent, to an extent. They laughed at France's failure to attain America and Britain's failure as an empire.

After another few sip, England and Canada lost their hold on reality. France and America watched, quietly at another table, their loud and tipsy loved ones laugh it out. They had been forced out by the drunks after declaring they were going to talk about some private things. Private things, like whether they wore briefs or boxer, that both Alfred and Francis heard either way.

"Mattie, my luv, do ya pheel da earth spinning?" Arthur had his arm slung over the Canadian.

"Artie, mon cher, we can't peel it moving, ri-rite? Hahahaha. Bu-but I know it spins around da...a-around da SUN! The shtar in de ssssssskai!" Mattie arms sweep the "sky" above him.

"No, no, no!" Artie shook his head violently and pointer finger flew back and forth in front of Mattie's face. "The EARTH! Now dat's bhut circles around and around and around and 'round and 'roun...no! The Sun! HAHAHAHA! Da wanker. De SUN goes 'round and 'roun' and...the earth. WE are in ze centa!" Artie and Mattie then proceeded into a heated argument about how the earth was brighter than the sun.

"Shawt up, you ol' timar. You dought the sun whent 'round and 'round the earthhh... Silly scones! HAHAHAHA! S-since I said da BIIIIIG shtar stays still, I'm wright when I shay da earth isa brighter! TWINKLE TWINKLE! Hahaha...the door went twinkle twinkle..." Matthew reached for his nearly emptied bourbon; his rye whiskey long gone.

"F-francis," Alfred's tongue was a little slow in moving. "Do you dhink we shhhould sthap 'em? Artie's not gonna be pwetty in da mornin'." Alfred looked at the vodka tonic in his hand that was recommended by Francis. He put it down after he realized his hand was slightly blurring into the highball glass.

"I hafta agree with 'cha! Deeee zun izzzzz brighter! Mista! Can I get a S-Scotch Ale over 'ere?" Arthur called to the bartender who shook his head but proceeded to prepare the drink for the British man.

"Non, non, non! You do NOT agree wizz me! De eartzzz is brighter becuzzzzz...BUCUZZZ Frrrrrrancey pooh is on it! Beautiful Francis~" Mattie fawned over the french man sitting only a table away.

"'ey 'ey 'ey! Dwo can play at dat gaaime! The sun is bwighter 'cause Alfreddie landed on it! And and and! Alfred is better and more beautifuller than that stoopid Francis!" Arthur shot up from his seat and ran to his lover. Artie wrapped his arms around the taller American and snuggled into his arms. Mattie looked at his brother and the way the two fit together. His heart clenched with sadness as his eyes shifted to the french man next to the couple.

He saw the flashy attire of the man. He was wearing a white shirt underneath a dark purple vest. He wore a red ascot and a darker purple over coat which reaches his knees. His pants were near black in color. He practically radiated with sparkles and roses. His hair was loosely tied black with more red. Matthew saw that the purple and red brought out the best in Francis. His blue eyes shone in the dim setting of the pub, digging into Mattie's heart. The longer he looked at this alluring man, the more Mattie felt his throat become dry. He took the last sip of his bourbon and noticed a waiter approaching with Arthur's drink.

Before the worker could put it down, Mattie snatched it and downed a good half of it. It didn't help. He felt heat spreading across his face. However, before he could take another sip, an arm jerked him around.

"Waddja think you're doin'? Dat's moine!" Artie claimed his drink and finished it off. Afterwards he looked at the younger boy and fumed. "Imma gonna take back wh-at's moine!" With one fluid motion, Arthur pulled the clueless Canadian in and claimed his mouth as well. The British man was more than off the edge. He continued to kiss the boy and found he could barely taste the long gone Ale. Infuriated and determined to get it back, Artie slipped his tongue in. Mattie, drunk, forgot momentarily who he was kissing and went with the flow. He moaned slightly as his tongue was caressed by another. Only when they were ripped away, Mattie slightly remembered who the man was.

Alfred, brimming with jealousy and anger, smacked his lips against the British man's lips. The younger nation had his arms wrapped tightly and possessively around his lover, letting no chance for escape. As the kiss deepened, hands started to migrate. Mattie yelped slightly when he saw his brother's hand firmly grope Arthur's ass. Alfred finally let go and caught Arthur as he threatened to collapse.

"Whazz that all 'bout?" Artie tried to catch his breath; the red on his face could easily be seen. The same went for the flushed Canadian, whose waist Francis had a possessive hand placed on.

"Disinfection!" Alfred pulled the older man in gently and pitifully. The sight of a lonesome dog dashed across the company's mind as Alfred nibbled on Artie's neck. Artie patted the boy's back, reassuring him a bit. Then the heaving came.

"Imma gonna bee sick." Artie gripped his stomach; Alfred jumped away from the nauseous man. After concluding the man wouldn't hurl right away, Alfred quickly led the poor British gentleman to the bathroom. Mattie was alone with Francis.

The two of them continued to stand there, Francis' hand still on the Canadian's waist. It took both men a while to notice their proximity. When they did, Francis pulled away. Mattie jumped a bit, embarrassed. They faced each other, unsure of what to say or do. An awkward silence fell.

_What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say! Oh, my head hurts._ Matthew continued to look into the slightly shorter man's eyes, entranced. _How can a person's eyes be so beautiful? Such a marvelous blue...And those lips._ They were soft and plush. Not hard as Matthew thought they would be. It was very smooth, of course. A calming warmth with them. It was almost amusing to run his thumb over the pair of lips on the face of the one he loved. Mattie watched his hands caress the older man's face. It took him a second to realize what he was doing.

His hands stopped on either side of the French man's head. The poor Canadian turned red from ear to ear and jerked his hands back. Francis, much more sober than the other, moved quickly and took a hold of the hands that were fleeing. Francis could feel heat radiating from Matthew's hands. Instead of pulling away, like he normally would, Matthew stared at the interlocked hands carefully.

"Heeheehee. It's beeen a-a while. 'asn't it? I 'aven't held yoour 'and sincezzz...uh...you..." Mattie felt himself sway a bit. The pulsing in his head continued to persist. Strangely, he felt arms wrap around him. He looked up to see Francis holding him upright firmly and looking down at him worried. _Oh. I fell?_ Mattie grabbed the other man's arm for support.

"Let's sit down. Come on." Francis led the confused boy to a low couch-like seat. It was to prevent Matthew from falling off a chair and for comfort. Francis asked for two glasses of ice water with lemons from the waiter.

"NOOOO! I want moor tooie drink. Cuz...cuz...I want, no, kneed to telld Franci-pooh sumthin'." Matthew curled up on the couch and hid his head in the seat. It took Francis a while to realize Matthew didn't seem to understand he was right there.

"Look Matthieu. Regardez (Look). Francis is right 'ere. See? I'm ze beautiful Francis, non?" The older man placed his hands gingerly on the curled up other. Slowly, Matthew started to come out from his little shell of sadness.

"Francis? Rweally? FRANCIS! When...when didya get thair?" Mattie launched himself at the man. Laughter filled the ears of the french man and light kisses rained down on his face.

"I didn't get da chance to telld you. You wouldd not lissten to moi! But TODAY, you...you will, non?" Mattie giggled uncontrollably. Francis smiled unevenly at the younger boy's attempt to insert more French into his sentences.

"Of course, Matthieu."

"Youknowthisisthefirsttimefor metosayanythinglikethis. Idon'tknowhowtoapproachthisbutAlf redjustsaidtogowithit. SohereIgo!" Matthew took a deep exaggerated breath. Francis watched as the boy started to formulate what he was going to say and got worried. After all that had happened, Francis wouldn't be surprised if Matthew was going to outright state he wanted nothing to do with Francis. Surprisingly, it took Matthew longer than expected to say anything. Francis assumed it was the amount of alcohol intake the Canadian had. Matthew's mouth open and closed a couple times with a thoughtful 'hmmm' every so often.

Francis shifted in his chair. He was never so nervous in his life. Mattie groaned and buried his face in his hands. Nothing was helping Francis' nerves. Mattie peaked from in between his long pale fingers. Purple eyes stared at him innocently and wide. Mattie seemed strangely awake for a drunk man. Francis gulped. That was it. Francis moved forward in his seat so he sat on the edge; closer to the nervous and conflicted maple lover.

It only took a second. Francis snaked his hand to the back of Matthew's head and lightly gripped the hair. He swept over and deeply kissed the confused boy. This time, Mattie reacted immediately. With weak and slow arms, he tried to tug the older man away. His head spun as Francis rubbed the younger nation's teeth with his tongue. Instinctively, Mattie groaned and let himself fall into the flow of things. He began to attack the french man as well.

Both were breathless when they broke apart.

Both couldn't take their eyes off of each other.

Both couldn't help but watch as the other began to shed tears.

"Mon petit, why do you cry?" Francis caressed the other's cheek and wiped away a tear.

"F-Francis? Why're you cryin'?" Mattie sniffled and held back his hiccups. Francis kissed the Canadian's eyelids.

"It's because I love you. I love you so much. Matthieu, I...please. I understand you're drunk, but please try to regain yourself before answering." Francis saw the look Mattie was giving him: confused and scared. "Believe me, Matthieu. I never want to let you go. I want to keep you all for myself. I want to pour out my affection onto you. Je t'aime, Matthieu. I'll repeat it hundreds of times. I'll do absolutely anything. Don't push me away. Don't treat me like nothing." Francis gripped the purple eyed country's hands. He held them gently together and kissed them. His tears wet both of their hands. Unable to look at the hands' owner, he rest his forehead on them.

"I...Francis, pwease look at me." Mattie tried to tug his hands away from the bearded man. He didn't know how to handle this situation at all. He thought he'd be on the other end; confessing and trying to hide himself. Francis didn't look up.

"Excuse me."

Matthew looked up, embarrassed by his predicament. Francis noticing a stranger's voice, looked up as well.

"I'm sorry but a Mr. Alfred Jones is looking for some assistance. He is in the men's bathroom in the back." A waiter with their water relayed the message coldly and swiftly, then left. Both men thought how strange it was for a person to interrupt something they knew would become awkward. It must have been an emergency. Francis stood.

"I'll go and probably send zem 'ome in a taxi. We'll go 'ome afterwards. Please. Try and zink about what I've said." Francis got up, straightened out his clothes, and walked quickly to the back of the bar.

Mattie took a swish of his water. The cold drink ran down in throat, electrifying his heated body. He put the glass back down, his hand shaking slightly.

_Francis really loves me. _Mattie grinned without a care in the world. _He's not lying. He saw the worst in me, yet he still says he loves me._ Matthew brought his knees close to his chest and hugged them. He giggled a bit and leaned his head against his knees. _I'll surprise him. I'll act all sad and have him come next to me. Then I'll kiss him and confess as well. _Matthew took another drink of water. He blinked a couple of times. His head wouldn't stop spinning. _I guess I'm drunk. Wait, what was I supposed to do?_ Mattie straighten up in his seat. That's when he noticed a person was standing next to him. He looked at the dark figure and nearly screamed.

"Come on, America. I'm not the big bad wolf or anything." The southern Hispanic nation whispered in Mattie's ear, his hand covering the blond man's mouth. "You won't scream, will ya." It was stated rather than asked. Matthew couldn't help but nod, anything to get the Cuban's hands off of him. Cuba smiled and took his hand away from the American's mouth. However, in anger, he gripped the other man's face with his right hand.

"You're a little slut, aren't you Alfred? Not only have you got poor England after you, but you also have France after your ass. Did you get hooked on the feeling of a man's dick? Your little British chap can't help you with that, can he?" Cuba reached and groped the poor mistaken Canadian's cock. A shocked gasp escaped from his lips; a sick feeling took a hold of his stomach.

"I'm not America." Matthew could hear himself a bit louder than usual. It was probably due to the beverages he had over the course of the night. He moved to swipe the dark skinned man's hand away, but the organ was massage lightly.

"Uhn." Matthew cringed at the sudden rush of pleasure. "C-Carlos, stop. No moore. Please." Matthew tried to pry the hand away from his crotch.

"Don't you remember what happened that day? We discovered your masochistic streak, didn't we? How about I have couple of my men just fuck you here?" Carlos whispered into the frightened blond's ear. Matthew remembered. He could never stop thinking about it. Was he a pervert? Was he strange? Every time he banged his toe or hit his hip against a corner, he thought about what was whispered in bed. _'A masochist...'_

Twice those words were uttered in bed.

"I'm not America! I'm your friend Canada! Matthew Williams 's de name." Mattie protested and managed to knock Carlos off of the arm of the chair.

"Shut the fuck up, America." Ice clinked against the glass before falling on a blond head. Water poured mercilessly down the Canadian's head and soaked his shirt and pants. "You could never compare to Mattie. A fucking whore like you. Did Britain dump your sorry ass after all that commotion? So that bitch France is your fuck buddy now?" Matthew's head kept spinning. He didn't know what to say. No. He didn't know how to say it. There was too much to say.

_I'm not who you think you are. I am that friend that can't compare to the America you hate. American and England are fine together and nothing's gonna change that. I won't let anything happen after it took them so long to get together! And don't you ever say anything like this to America! He's nicer than you think...at times. And England is a nice man! Why would he hate Alfred for what you did? And France..._

"That sex maniac probably having the time of his life. You're after him, if you really want to know. Such a shame Britain left already, but I wouldn't want Mattie to see the things that will happen today. Stand up. We're going to take a piss." Carlos jerked Matthew up before he could fully comprehend the weight of the dark haired man's words. _What...what's happening? If Arthur and Alfred left already, then who is Francis helping...oh dieu._

They made it to the back of the bar where a man was guarding the door to the bathroom. Matthew could feel his heart sink. His heart raced as the door was swung open. Slowly his mouth opened in complete and utter horror. Before he could shriek, Carlos clamped his hand across the blond's mouth and shoved him into the bathroom.

Francis was knocked out on the bathroom floor. His clothes were ripped and scattered on the ground. Faint bruises could be seen across the whole body; a nasty one in the shape of fingers marked his neck. Dried tears, blood, and other obscene liquids covered the man's beautiful face. However, he wasn't alone on the filthy ground. Men were touching the still body. A cock was being driven into the french man's mouth; multiple hands were caressing the body. Another's arm was thrusting into Francis's...ass.

"GET OFFA 'IM!" Matthew ripped himself from Carlos' grasps. He lunged himself at the man fisting his beloved and slammed him to the ground. He could hear the head hit the tile ground, but he saw no blood. After seeing the man move, Matthew continued on his rampage. He didn't want anyone dead. However, before he could sock another victim, all of the attackers were gone. They had thought Matthew had killed the first assaulter. Mattie relaxed and sank next to Francis. The guard remained though. He slung the knocked out man over his shoulder and quietly made his way out.

"W-wait!" The guard stopped. "Did they...pen-penetra..." Mattie choked on his own words. He placed the abused man's head on his lap and embraced it protectively.

"No. Make sure they pump his stomach." With that, the guard left.

_Pump...his stomach?_ Matthew reached for Francis's pulse with a quivering hand. It was practically non-existent. Then he screamed. He kept screaming and screaming. Even when the ambulance came and the EMT talked to him, Matthew was screaming. They finally had to give him a weak relaxant. They couldn't give him too much with the amount of alcohol already in his blood stream. It did it's job. Matthew was calmed down enough to be taken to the hospital France had been taken to.

* * *

Alfred and Arthur were already there waiting for the Canadian. At the sight of their loved one, Alfred and Arthur dashed over to Mattie and embraced him. They checked his body multiple times to make sure he was okay. Prussia strutted out from the shadows, confusing the Canadian.

"I'll give you an even more awesomer hug than those dicks!" Prussia followed through by practically breaking the poor boy's spine.

"W-why are you here?" Matthew took a moment to regain his breathe.

"Emergency contact number!" Prussia laughed at how stupid the blond was. He wouldn't have asked such an obvious question.

Then it clicked. Gilbert was here for Francis. Mattie's knees buckled a bit, but Gilbert caught him before he could fall.

"Ha. Now I'm the more awesome hero!" Prussia let out another laugh. Alfred stood in total shock. _He stole my line!_ Arthur kindly closed Alfred's jaw shut.

"T-then where's Spain?" Matthew stood back up. The three of them were always together. If Francis and Gilbert were there, so was Antonio. It was like that for all of them. They were the Bad Touch Trio.

"Ha. That bastard's with the little devil. They're probably fucking like little bunnies or doin-"

"Let's stop there!" Arthur interrupted Gilbert, eyeing the greedy look Alfred had on his face. He didn't want his lover to get weird ideas. After noticing the paling of Mattie's face, they moved their location to the waiting room adjacent to the operation room. While Gilbert went to get drinks, the other three nations sat around a table.

"Matthew, luv, how are you doing?" Arthur put a hand on the taller man's back. Matthew sunk his face into his hands.

"I can't stop thinking about it. He had gone, Francis that is, to help Alfred. Or someone who said they were you." Mattie took in a shaky breathe. He could feel his throat tighten and all of the sudden he couldn't breath correctly. He felt his eyes wet, but he knew tears wouldn't fall. There were no more left. "Then Carlos came. He thought I was you again. He touched and teased me a bit but nothing serious." He quickly added. "He took me back to the bathroom. I snapped after seeing Francis...violated as he was. I only got one man before they all left. He didn't die, but I don't know what happened to him. A guard came in and...and took him. He said to make sure they pumped...oh god." Mattie was in a shuddering mess. He couldn't stop shaking. Different scenarios of what happened repeated themselves over and over in his mind. Matthew felt his hands being moved.

The nations of either side of him grasped his hands tightly. Simultaneously, a small peck was given on either cheek. Matthew felt his muscles relax as Arthur massaged his left hand and Alfred just played with his right hand. Gilbert came back with warm cups of coffee. Apparently, black coffee is good for a hangover. The nations thanked him, which Gilbert took as an ego boost. Soon, the doctor came out.

Arthur and and Gilbert shot out of their chair and bombarded the man in the white coat with questions. Mattie couldn't find the strength to stand. Alfred only remained seated to support his brother.

Everything had gone well. Francis was stabilized and would be free to go in a couple of days. The doctor was thanked and took his leave.

"Thank god. Thank god. Thank god." Mattie repeated like a broken record. He had no other words to say. Tears, he thought were gone, fell again. With Alfred and Gilbert's assistance, Matthew was taken to the french man's room. A heart monitor beeped and an IV needle came out from the sleeping man's arm. Matthew couldn't believe the machine. He reached over to feel the man's pulse himself.

He stopped. _What if his heart really has stopped? Could the machine be lying to me? Was the doctor lying to us?_ Matthew's hand quivered in mid-air. A hand fell on his shoulder. Mattie looked up to see soft green eyes. He took a deep breath.

His fingers met with the soft flesh of a wrist. A steady pulse was felt. Matthew burst into tears again. Alfred kissed his brother's head before taking Arthur back into the waiting room.

_I'm so sorry, Francis. I keep hurting you...over and over and over. But you say you love me. C-can I keep believing you love me? Even after what happened tonight? Am I worth being called your lover? Am I? Do I even have the right to touch you ever again? _Matthew gasped and released the man's hand. With a blurred vision, Mattie looked at his cursed hands. All of a sudden a sensation swept over him. He needed something sharp. Anything sharp! Matthew dug through drawers and cabinets for anything to cut with. With a large crash, he threw open a locked drawer to find medical scissors. His hands trembled.

He aimed the blades for the flesh of his palm.

"MATTHEW!" Alfred yelled. He dashed into the room and struggled with Mattie for the weapon. Arthur and a nurse, hearing the commotion, burst into the room as well. They both acted immediately. The nurse called for some help and Arthur assisted Alfred in subduing the frantic Canadian. Matthew was soon restrained and placed in his own hospital room. He was given sedatives again. The doctor examined the drugged Canadian and concluded that Matthew might have a slight borderline personality disorder. After recommending few psychotherapy clinics, the doctor left them alone, telling them to press the emergency button if anything should happen. Alfred and Arthur were on either side of their loved one again.

"Why is it this time, Matthew? Why again?" Arthur spoke into Mattie's hand. He sighed.

"My hands. My being. All I do is hurt the man I love. If that's all I'm good for, then what's the use?"

"Do you really think that's what Francis wants you to think?" Alfred protested.

"No. I know he doesn't! But what right do I have to touch him?" Matthew hissed.

"He loves you." Arthur whispered. He didn't know if he was allowed to say this.

"I know." Mattie spoke even quieter.

"Then what is the problem!" Alfred was running out of patience.

"How can he love me now? After he was almost raped." Matthew spat out. He was furious. Why were they bothering him this much?

"That's how Francis was feeling after he found you. He was so confused. He didn't know what to do for the longest time, but he finally got around to confessing, didn't he?" Arthur touched the shocked blond's chin. "He went through hell trying to figure out if you would be able to love again; if you were going to be the same. He didn't want to hurt you by making love to you too early. Yes, he told me about that first day. He ended causing a misunderstanding, didn't he? I'm sure, as you put your love for Francis before your past, he will too. All he wants is your love, Mattie." Matthew cried again.

He needed to see him.

* * *

"Francis..." _I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. No. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I'm IN love with YOU. Dammit! Francis, please wake up quickly._ Matthew was by Francis' bedside again. It was the middle of the following day and Francis hadn't awaken yet. Arthur and Alfred had gone to fetch Francis' convertible at the bar, so Matthew was alone at the hospital. Well, not completely alone.

"Je suis en amour avec vous." Matthew muttered, lightly raining kissing on the blond man's hand.

"Répétez cela pour moi, l'amour. (Repeat that for me, love)" The Canadian halted in his administration. The heart-warming french he could recognize from anywhere.

"Francis!" Matthew leaped from his seat and hugged the groggy man. He couldn't contain himself. He started kissing the older man's face over and over again; his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his ears, and his eyes.

The french man let out a light laugh. His heart was also soaring.

"S'il vous plaît Amour, répéter ce que vous venez de dire. (Please Love, repeat what you just said.)" Francis held the other's head still. The Canadian smiled breathtakingly rather than blushing like his usual self.

"As many times as you want! I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. Je suis en amour avec vous! (I'm in love with you!)" Mattie launched himself at the patient and claimed his lips. Francis smiled into it and kissed his sweet Matthew back.

* * *

**A/N:** I did NOT expect this to be long. Don't worry. There will be one last chapter and get ready for some...lemon...? Sorry for the lateness. As you can see, this was super long. I know Prussia was thrown in there but, I mean, Francis needed SOMEONE to be there for him as an Emergency Contact. Yes...Spamano. Cute...and devilish.

**UKUS** extra? Anyone? VOTE! Please. Only way I know you guys want it.

I love Cuba. Don't get me wrong. I just needed someone to play the bad guy. And Francis wasn't supposed to be the one in the hospital. It was SUPPOSED to be Alfred...but whoops. And I didn't mean to almost rape Francis...but it helped with Matthew relating to Francis. Things just clicked. Yay!

A lot of research went into this actually. Like the types of alcoholic beverages, which was VERY entertaining. Apparently, a lot of Canadians drink rye whiskeys. So see you next time, which will probably be within a month. It's only a love scene...right? Review please! S'il vous plaît!


	5. Completion

**A/N:** Thanks for sticking with me so far guys. Sorry for all the late uploads and the anxious waiting. Thanks for all those who favorite'd and followed this story!

I don't know if people re-read the last chapter, but I decided to diagnose Matthew with a slight borderline personality disorder. It's nothing severe, and I hope people don't get offended by my casual use of a disorder. I know something like that is serious but I couldn't write off Matthew's tendencies as just "stress-induced".

The poll for an extra is still on-going so vote and hope for a UKUS extra! Here's the sweet yaoi scene y'all have been waiting for!

* * *

**Completion**

**(Couple weeks later)**

"So how do you think it's going, Matthieu?" Francis opened the door of his house for the Canadian. Mattie grabbed the older man's hand and leaned on his shoulder briefly before removing his shoes. Francis did the same and walked into his house, leading his lover into the living room.

After both men had been released from the hospital, they started seeing more of each other. Matthew went to a great psychotherapist and talked for hours on end with her. Francis would see Matthew off with a kiss in the office and pick him up with another kiss. Francis had met with the psychotherapist once or twice with Matthew, but they didn't talk about Mattie. She had talked to them about how they could support each other during the treatment. And of course, Alfred and Arthur were doing their best in support the duo in both Mattie's treatment and their relationship.

"It's going well. I think. I'm feeling much better." Matthew offered, sitting down next to his french man. Francis pulled the taller country against himself so he could wrap his arms around the other blond. Matthew rested his head against his shoulder, smiling softly. Francis could remember when Matthew had first sat across from him in the house, stiff and at the edge of the couch. But Francis made sure his Matthieu was comfortable with him. He invited him over as much as he could. They occasionally went out to eat.

"I'm glad." Francis buried his head in the other's hair, savoring the sweet smell of maple syrup. "Matthieu." Francis mumbled into the Canadian's hair.

The said Canadian turned around to face the older man. He gripped either side of Francis's face and pressed their lips together. Mattie pulled away as quickly as he approached the other. He turned back around, but the French man could see Mattie's ears turning red. _Oh dieu._ Francis tackled Matthew from behind, turning him around. He pinned the younger nation and kissed him. Matthew startled, started to try and pull away.

"What's wrong, mon amour?" Francis didn't want to hurt his lover.

"I-It's just embarrassing." Matthew covered his face with his hands.

"Onhonhonhon." Francis slipped his hands into the other's shirt.

"F-Francis!" Matthew gasped as warm hands caressed his chest. He squirmed under the older male and shifted his eyes back and forth. Francis overcome by love and desire for his sweetheart, tugged on Mattie's lower lip with a teasing kiss. He slowly worked his way into a French kiss, his tongue tasting the sweetness of maple syrup. His body pressed nicely against the Canadian, he ground his hips against the male below him. A muffled moan was lost in Francis's mouth.

They broke the kiss with a gasp and a glassy stare of lust. Francis wasted no time in courting his lover's body. He gave a soft kiss to Matthew's lips and moved to his jaw. From his jaw, Francis stroked Matthieu's neck with his warm tongue, leaving an occasional hickey. Sucking lightly, he made small marks to last a few days at least. Not forgetting their semi-hard members, Francis gave another roll of the hips.

"Ah!" Matthew bit down on his lower lip. His body started shaking with slight apprehension and uneasy pleasure. The boy gripped Francis's shoulder and whimpered.

"Ah, mon amour, don't be afraid. Zere is no reason for fear." Francis kissed Matthieu's bleeding lip. Matthew nodded and hugged the older man tightly. Another roll of hips causing members to rub against each other underneath the confines of their trousers. Francis worked a bit slowly. He kissed and sucked on Matthew's collarbone while his hands explored the Canadian's chest. Running his hands up and down his front, Francis stopped at a small bud. Feeling even more aroused by its hardness, he rolled it between his fingers while the other hand lightly massaged the growing tent in Matthieu's pants.

"Uh...ahn...F-Francisss." Matthew moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore; it was too embarrassing! Turning his head, Matthew continued to purely enjoy his body being ravished by his beloved. A hand kept massaging his growing length causing Mattie to twitch every now and then. He vaguely felt his shirt riding up and Francis's lips on his torso.

_L-lips?_

"Ugn. Francis! Ahn! Uhn..." Matthew let out a gasp and a stretched out moan when he felt warmth cover his nipple and pull. A strange electrifying feeling ran down his spine and pooled in the pit of his stomach. It was strange. It was unusual. Matthew struggled to pull away. "S-stop, Francis." He couldn't breath correctly. He didn't know how to react. He knew this was Francis's way of showing love and pleasuring him, but he was hesitant. Feeling the unease in his partner, Francis pulled away and distanced his body from Mattie's, his fingers lightly interlocked with the shaken Canadian's.

"Is it too early, bien-aimé (beloved)?" Francis massaged his sweet Matthieu's hand, trying to ease the boy. There was no rush. He didn't want this relationship to be purely physical. He wanted to support and love the other from the inside out. If that meant making love, he's more than gladly oblige. If not, then he was fine with that too. France _is_ the country of love. Matthew thought the same. He knew the Frenchman's way of love; he _had_ grew up with the older man. But Mattie _wanted _to give his loved one pleasure. He just wasn't used to the feeling of love being poured into every administration.

"Non. Je suis désolé. Je suis juste un peu nerveux. (No. I'm sorry. I'm just a bit nervous.)" Matthew hugged the other. He kissed the bearded man's neck and inhaled the scent of roses and cologne. He moved so he sat in Francis's lap, peeling off the flashy clothes. Francis was touched and a bit embarrassed himself. He helped his sweet lover and aided him in removing his own clothes. The Canadian ran his hands against Francis's naked chest and rest against the warmth.

"Zen I'm continuing." Francis lifted the cuddling country's face and kissed him again. His hands moved so one was holding his back and the other running over his pert buds. A gasp and a moan emanated from Matthew's throat. Feeling more confident in every touch he made, Francis rolled his hips upwards, rubbing against Mattie's clothed hole.

"Oh my go-ahn." Matthew curled into himself, heavy pants. Losing himself in the overwhelming feeling of being loved, Matthew started to return the favors with fervor. His hands roamed the Frenchman's body, rubbing circles around his nipples as well. He kissed the older man's collarbone, sucking as Francis had done to him. He also reached down to undo Francis's pants, massaging the bulge softly yet teasingly. He was a male too; he knew what felt good.

Francis was nearly stunned by his lover's work. It was so different when your body is teased by the one your heart had surrendered to. Feeling his arousal lengthen, Francis removed Matthieu's hard cock from the confines of his pants as well. Groaning when his length was rubbed, he licked the boy's chest. He lightly scratched the boy's skin with his teeth and clamped down on his bud, extracting a whiny moan from the receiving party. Matthew couldn't help it. He thought making love would be like masturbating, but it seemed to be much more intimate. He couldn't get enough of it. Fear was lost in the moment.

Francis laid the younger nation back on the couch and pulled off his pants completely, along with the underwear. He nearly drooled at the sight of his lover's hardened organ. He did that. He was the cause of that handsome arousal. Francis tentatively licked around the head of the organ. He ran over the weeping slit once or twice before easing the whole organ into his mouth. His hands rubbed the base of the cock, teasing his balls as well.

"Uh..ahn...F-francis." Matthew couldn't contain his voice as warmth surrounded his length. His lover's experienced tongue caressed his length and kept reaching further down. "AH! Francis!" The younger nation gasped when Francis relaxed his throat and took the boy whole. "Haa...haa..." His hands gripped the older man's blond hair.

Francis tried his hardest to keep back his gag reflex when he realized Matthieu was getting harder. As he tried to re-position himself, Francis accidentally scratched the boy's cock with his teeth. Trying to apologize, Francis removed himself from the boy's hard organ but he wasn't fast enough. He apologized, slightly, while the length was still in his mouth, causing him to scratch it again. Slightly harder. However what the Canadian did next surprised the both of them. He came.

With his whole body shuddering under the strength of cuming, Matthew shot his load of on Francis's face. Both were frozen in shock.

"I'm so sorry!" Both moved and spoke simultaneously. Both chuckled. Francis opened his mouth to mention Matthieu's masochistic nature when he had a strange sense of déjà vu. He looked down at his lover's cock. It was still hard. Smiling, he wiped the cum off his face and pumped the boy's organ.

"Is that what _he_ said? Masochist?" Francis squeezed the base of Mattie's arousal.

"Ah! Oh...ahn..." Matthew writhed underneath Francis; he nodded carefully. _I see. So that was why..._ Francis smiled and shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of the past. It was now. Now, his Canada needed him. He got up and rummaged through his drawers for lube. Upon finding it, he hurried back to find Matthieu crawled up, crying.

"Matthieu!" Francis dropped his findings and rushed to his love's side. "Matthieu, what happened?"

"Francis? You came back?" Matthew turned his head to lay his eyes upon Francis. He threw himself at the older man, nearly knocking him over. "I-I thought you were upset at me. You j-just left and...and...after I t-told you...ugh." He broke out into sobs. Francis felt guilty for leaving so abruptly. He hadn't though about it like that. He knew what happened to Matthew in the past was in the past. No matter how much they brooded over it, it wouldn't change. Francis decided to accept all of Matthieu, even his past. _I guess I didn't make that clear._

"Matthieu, I'll say it as many times as you want me to. I am in love with you. That includes you in the present, the past, and the future, which I am, hopefully, a part of." Francis rained kissed down on his face. He kissed the Canadian's lips before getting up to retrieve the lube.

"I didn't want to hurt you, little one." Francis handed over the bottle and watched Mattie's face turn bright red. With shaking hands, he gave it back.

"I love you, Francis." Matthew hugged the older male, rolling his hips against the other. Francis groaned in pleasure and sweet surprise.

"I know." Francis coated a substantial amount of lube around his fingers and dripped the liquid onto the standing boy's ass.

"Ah! It's c-cold." Matthew pressed himself closer to the Frenchman. The man chuckled.

"Not for long." Francis reached around the slightly taller boy's body circled the boy's entrance and eased a digit in.

"F-francis...hmm...ahn." Matthew pushed back on the finger. It was so painless, compared to..._then_. He could handle this. He could come to enjoy it. Francis moved that one finger in and out, slowly and carefully, observing Matthieu reaction as he continued._  
_

"M-more Francis...please?" Matthew took his own hands and tugged the older nation's pants down, revealing his own hard cock. Matthew gulped. He moved his hips so their arousal met and ground together. Mattie collapsed onto Francis's shoulder as the overwhelming sensation pounded his nether regions. _F-fuck!_ Matthew clawed at the Frenchman's back. "More. More. haaa...ahn...uagh..."

Francis winced at the slight pain from his back but returned the favor by added a second.

"F-francis!" Matthew gripped the older nation tighter. "O-oh...uhn...god...ah!" Francis moved the digits in and out, slowly and maddeningly. "Faster Francis! Please!" The other nation grabbed both of their cocks and stroked them together. "I-I can't...augh...hold o-out...haa...much longer!" Another shudder of pleasure wracked the Canadian's body.

"As you wish." Francis added a third and fourth finger in and pulled out as quickly as he thrust in. Doing this multiple times, it drove Matthew mad with lust. Endless moans of pleasure echoed in the room. Once he pulled out, Matthew whined in displeasure. He moved to seek the experienced digits.

"Non non non. I'll show you a much more filling pleasure." Francis kissed the boy again, Matthew was more frantic than the Frenchman. Coating his own length, Francis rubbed his head against the prepared entrance. Unable to hold himself back, Matthew lowered himself down. Or tried to. Anxious to feel the loving heat around his cock, Francis lost it when Matthieu started without him. Grabbing the Canadian's shoulders, Francis thrust his hips up and pushed his lover down.

"AH! Shiiit-" The boy screamed and buried his head in the older man's shoulder. He couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't stop the queasy feeling in his stomach cause by an overload of ecstasy.

"Oh dieu!...uhn..." Francis was frozen with shock. The warmth of his loved one and the clenching of the muscles around his length was maddening. Interlocking their lips, Francis thrust upwards. Sounds of flesh hitting flesh, sounds of pure pleasure, sounds of love, sounds of sex filled the room. The French man finally pushed the slightly taller male on the couch and pounded him from above, turned Matthieu into a moaning mess.

"OHMYGOD!" Matthew gripped his lover's forearm as a sudden wave of ecstasy. _That was my..._

"Prostrate?" Francis hissed through clenched teeth. He didn't expect his sweet Matthieu to clamp down so hard on his length. But it didn't stop there. As Francis's hips moved forward on its own accord, Matthew's prostrate was hit, causing his muscles to spasm. Feeling way to close to release, Francis leaned over and locked lips with Matthew. His shaft still moving in and out of the Canadian, he focused his attention on teasing his lover more.

He kissed his bottom lips, tugging lightly with his teeth. His hands made their way into his curly locks. One hand left to rub a pert bud, squeezing and rolling.

"F-francis!" Matthew sobbed. "I...I d-don't think...unh...n-need to...ah!" The younger male bit his lower lip trying to stop the embarrassing moans from reaching Francis's ear. The other male smiled and kissed his lips.

"Je t'aime." The Frenchman continued to kiss the Canadian as he came. Soon after, Francis came inside. And the two became one.

Shedding tears, Matthew rained kisses on the older man's face.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He mumbled under his breathe. "I love you."

"I love you just as much, maybe even more." Francis smiled under the shower of love he received. "Let's go clean up, non?"

Matthew blushed slightly and nodded, hugging his sweet sweet country of love.

**~Epilogue~**

"Matthew! I'M HERE! AHAHAHAHAHA! THE HERO HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!" The door was slammed open by Mattie's brother. Following him was the older country and his lover, Arthur. Matthew smiled at his brother's energy and happily received his tight bear hug.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, laddie." Arthur pecked the Canadian's cheek before dragging America out of Matthew's fridge. Blushing slightly, Francis wrapped his arms around the slightly taller male. They walked into the living room together. America was already situated on the couch trying to pull Britain in closer. Britain, getting embarrassed, struggled slightly to get away. However, each and every person in the room knew it was all just an act. Britain just didn't want to admit in front of everyone how much the hamburger eating American meant to him.

"So I'm guessing you guys have been busy?" Alfred wiggled his eyebrows up and down, resulting in a slap to the head by his British lover.

"That's none of your business." He retorted. However, the other couple took note of Matthew's snuggle deeper into Francis's arms.

"And I can assume you two have been having the time of your lives?" Francis smirked largely as Alfred started to blush deeply, while Arthur wore the smirk.

"I can assure you that we haven't been bored." Arthur gave Alfred a side glance. Matthew watched the two. _Huh. Interesting._ Matthew snuck a glance at Francis, who winked in reply. Blushing, Matthew attempted to change the conversation.

"So dinner. Are we going out or staying here?" At the mention of food, Alfred's ears perked.

"As long as Artie doesn't cook, I'm good." This comment cause Arthur to chase the American around the apartment for a bit. Laughing at the ridiculous scene, Matthew leaned against Francis's shoulder. Receiving a kiss on the forehead, Mattie continued to look upon his life. Things were looking much better.

* * *

**A/N:** We're done guys. I'm sorry for all the late updates. But officially, I'm done! I will see if I can get that UKUS extra in...though uke!America made a slight appearance at the end of this chapter if you guys didn't notice. Heeheehee. But THANKS for sticking with me to the end. The sex scene was slightly weird but that's mostly due to Canada's mindset. I love you guys! See you later!


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